


For Want A Book

by Eliza_Ridley (Taylor_Devline)



Series: falling is just another way to fly [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Comedy, Dissociation, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Language, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Personas Are Involved More, Schizophrenia, The game itself is rated Mature, but I'm going to low key it as possible without ruining it, declining mental health, headcanons, nvm i think my love for psychological thriller is showing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 13:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10855176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylor_Devline/pseuds/Eliza_Ridley
Summary: A Confidant was lost. AU(In which a small detour caused a butterfly effect, and some bonds are never formed.)Revamp: 7th February 2018





	For Want A Book

**Author's Note:**

> I, in any way do not own the Persona franchise, obviously. All rights goes to Atlus (you brilliant bastard)  
> Have you ever wonder; what if there is another consequence of using a Persona with an arcana you haven't bond yet besides the massive exp decrease? Well, here's my thought.
> 
> A bit of WARNING: There might be some references or similar symptoms to Paranoid Schizophrenia and Uhh, Dissociation. Just in case.
> 
> Revamp notes: Added about 5000 words and a few new scenes, now packed with actual character interaction and meaningful scenes.  
> Summary why the revamp: there's a laptop now, i can write more without worrying losing everything i wrote in 5 hours, i lost my flipping notes, my style changed.

 

She has been watching over the little, antique bookstore her parents left her for three years, and she's beginning to question how it still stands despite being far away from its brethren in Jiboncho and the lack of lawsuits trying to get a hold at this tiny plot of land between monoliths in the middle of Shibuya. Also, those packages of old books and classics from her mystery suppliers. She suspects the sponsors and whoever chases away the lawsuits, someone powerful, she guesses.

 

~~Besides that, there is nothing odd about the shop. So when a bunch of high-school students in tracksuits stops by and marvels at the classics the store harbors before going about to their day,~~

 

~~she pays no mind.~~

 

Besides that, there is nothing odd about the shop. So when a high-school student stops by and marvels at the classics the store harbors before entering the shop and buys  _'Zoro the Outlaw'._

 

She pays no mind.

 

**9th April, Saturday - Clear -**

_**Daytime** _

 

The world describes him as quiet and shy, he talks when prompted, he answers when questioned, he obeys when ordered, he keeps his head down when he's walking down the crowded halls and busy streets, weaving around cold shoulders and colder gazes in this ever-lasting waltz, and when something akin to excitement happens he steps aside and watch as it unravel itself for better or worse, or preferably avoid it. He is, they thinks, a watcher, an observer.

 

So he goes with the flow, pretend, let everyone wrote him with scribbles of blank ink and exhausting labels. So he stays silent, obedient, perfect just like what his parents had wanted, written. So he stays at his little corner of the world, doing what people expected him to do but when nobody's looking. sometimes  ~~always~~  he ~~dreams~~ reads.

 

He reads and devours tales of knights in shining armor saving a dying kingdom, crisis in a distant world, the start of a legend, a single person against the world, a rebel and then a  _rebellion._  He giggles like a kid in a candyshop everytime he plunges ~~escape~~  himself in the vast world of those bound pages and watch with his mind's eye as his bedroom, the class, the library melt away and reshape into those fictional worlds. His chest would burst in a spectrum of colours ranging from joy to exhilaration, fueled with imaginary adrenaline pumping through his veins as he delve into this haven of his, away from watchful and demanding eyes, obstructing black walls and choking leashes.

 

Despite it all, he isn't free. Like in the real world, he is still trapped in this role of an observer. He despises- _loathe_ it.

 

Despite his mild-mannerism, his quietness, his  ~~disgusting~~   _obedience,_ _everything._ Despite it all, some days he wishes the delinquent student, the gentleman thief **~~Arsene~~** ~~~~ ~~~~, _the_ _troublemaker_ are him.

 

He wants to feel the rush, the adrenaline of a chase, the trepidation of a heist, the confidence, the  _thrill._ He wants to shake this corrupted world to its core, he wants the admiring looks from those who was oppressed by the strong, he wants to deliver the just sentences to the rotten, corroded cogs of society. He wants to  _rebel-_

 

 _and he did._ He  _rebelled_ and the world went against him and then there's black chains around his body, legs, arms and neck and he was dragged around until the world is certain there wasn't any fight in his battered body and left him in the mercy of a merciless man.

 

And that's where he realizes-ah, this little hideous black  _thing_ of _rebellion,_  withering in his chest is a  _mistake._

 

The haven was a mistake too, he thinks, he's _believes that_ _,_ but he finds himself glued to window belonged to a insignificant bookstore, wedged in the shadows between towering monoliths, staring with longing eyes at the innocent book among its siblings.

 

He left his haven back home, he could-

 

But what of they are right? The- _his_ haven is a mistake? _it_ _'s those books you kept, it's giving the boy ideas-are you saying it's my fault? i keep telling you to seal that room, I thought you left you father's legacy-stay out of this, akira!_

 

He thinks back to the nights he spent under his blanket and flashlight, exploring worlds upon worlds, realms upon realms through the eyes of a hero, a villain, a gentleman thief. He thinks back to the countless hours of writing dreams his mind made from those worlds into his little black journal he hid under the loose plank at the back of his closet, tucked between various treasured trinkets he collected over the years. He thinks to how the haven made the constant feeling of  _nothing_ far away.

 

~~Akira pushes his body away from the glass, one hand still lingering on the smooth surface, then after a while he shakes his head and lets go. He reasoned, he couldn't spend any extra money on something trivial, he's already threading on thin ice and he already lost too much in so little time. He hopes he could find his haven in the school library. He leaves and joins the massive crowd to cross the Shibuya Crossing.~~

 

Akira pushes his body away from the glass, one hand still lingering on the smooth surface, then after a while he nods his head and lets go. He reasoned, it couldn't be any harm to spend a bit of money on a book and one is more than enough, he's already threading on thin ice and he already lost too much in so little time. He hopes he could find the rest of his haven in the school library. He enters the store and later joins the massive crowd to cross the Shibuya Crossing with a small bag in tow.

 

It wasn't a mistake.

 

Definitely not to spite people just in case anyone has an idea to blame it on books and start a book purging spree. It happened before, it could happen now. 

 

**9th April, Saturday - Cloudy -**

_**Afternoon** _

 

Sakura-san is older than expected with dark eyes holding a light of wisdom and weariness,

 

"Huh, I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up, you're the one huh?" A pair of eyes drifts towards the small bag of plastic in his hand, "you did a little shopping?" Unconsciously, Akira hid the bag behind the older man's eyesight, mind running a mile per second through hundreds of lies and excuses. The older male drops his gaze and sniffs, "No need to be embarrassed about it. Just don't spend too much on unnecessary things, I'm not going to that easy to convince giving you more than you deserve."

 

Wise or not, Sakura-san is the same with all of them, the older man must be one of those quitters with his weariness, he thinks. He gives the man a small but polite bow and out of habit a hollow promise tumbles out of his mouth. It left a bitter taste on his tongue like any other promise to  _stay out of trouble, I'm warning you ungrateful brat-_

 

He eyes him with a critical look, head bobbing up and down to inspect him. Akira tries to discreetly straighten the creases his shirt formed when he accidentally fell asleep on the train, he catch his reflection on the various jars of coffee beans lined the shelf behind the counter and grimaces at his disheveled hair. He should've brush his hair-Ha, over his dead body, once was enough. After a moment, the older man seems to be satisfied with whatever he was judging him by and nodded, "Have you been told? A customer of mine and your parents know each other and-" He paused and gave him an odd look, "Well, not that it matters, to you at least." He sighed and nodded at the stairs visible at the back of the café, "follow me."

 

. . .

 

"This is your room."

 

He eyes the handiwork of spiders who made themselves home at probably every nook and cranny of the room, heavy tomes and unused boxes littered haphazardly on the floor, some of the boxes are decorated with holes and stains of unknown origin, worn and dirty towels hang above the mattress, a bicycle placed among other unused junk and a metal ladder at the corner, a table sits across them. He spots the fan above the shelf to his right and the tiny heater not far off on the floor, well it's good to know he won't die of heatstroke or freezing his ass off, unless Sakura-san takes them away to kill him by nature, he could go out and find somewhere to regulate his temperature, if he didn't have any curfew which he doubts but what if Sakura-san locked the door and he will be stuck here dying.

 

Not a good way or time to die.

 

"-I'll at least give you sheets for your bed." Sakura-san says. Ah, he's been talking. Akira hopes he didn't mention anything important like there's a killer living under his bed and he has to give them a tribute or something every day or else _he'll_ be the tribute, that is also not a good way to die.

 

His life have become something similar to the books he read or someone's drama show, he can't help but speculate a bit. It's fun.

 

Sakura-san cleared his throat and shots him a pointing look, "penny for your thoughts?" Akira lowers his gaze and shakes his head. The manager puts up the most skeptical face he ever seen, kudos for him. "Really? You look like you want to say something."

 

Akira thinks about between lying to be polite and silent sarcasm but decided against both. Lying might be a safe choice but Sakura-san looks like someone with an actual bullshit radar, so unless he wants to sleep under the stars-although nice, he doubts would show in the middle of a city or the fact he would likely be robbed blind, killed and froze his ass off figuratively and literally in no particular order, he should stay on the older man's good side or at least on neutral grounds. He decides to reply honestly, saying it's a big clusterfuck of dust and diseases in the most polite way; it's cluttered he tells him.

 

The man sighs at the answer, "Well, it's on you to clean up the rest." He turns towards the stairs, a hand on his hip, "I'll be leaving after I lock up the shop each day, so don't do anything stupid while you're alone at night or else I'll throw you out." Well that answers a question, he wonders if he could open any of the windows since death by dust is likely a probability here. He resists the urge to cough but he does anyway, accidentally while coughing out-Ha, a curt yessir, he would not do anything stupid but stupid is relative isn't it, so there's that.

 

"Now them I got a gist of your situation. You protected some woman from a man forcing himself on her, he got injured, then sued you, right?" Oh look, there's more dust and unidentified mold with an interesting colour on the floor isn't that more interesting than this conversation. He hears a huff from the older man, "That's what you get for sticking your nose in a matter between two adults. You did injure him, yeah?"

 

He should watch his strength then if a light push on the shoulder broke any of the man's bones as silent as a dead bird, shouldn't he? Sakura-san accepted his silence as a confession, "and now you've got a criminal record, you were expelled from your high school and the court ordered you to transfer and move out here, which your parents also approved of." He pauses to give him a grin, "in other words, your parents got rid of you for being a pain in the ass." There will be pain in _his_ ass if he sleep outside, unless he's dead before that. In other words, killed by some desperate guy hoping some other desperate guy to help him by killing him and taking his wallet, woe him.

 

Would his parents care though, if he dies? Disappointed, probably. He imagine along the lines of; Oh, son why did you have to die by petty theft, we expected better than you. As if he could care less of what they think, it's not like he was particularly close with either of them. In fact, he is relieve to be out of that house, he doesn't think he could handle any more arranged marriage drama anymore.

 

"Well, best behave yourself for the year, if nothing happens then your probation will be lifted." Sakura-san sends him a look, "probably. We'll be going to Shujin Academy tomorrow."

 

Shujin? He hopes that was written differently than he thinks it is, otherwise it'll be preparation instead of probation and he doesn't want to hang out in a building full of actual criminals for several hours. Dead on the first day, probably.

 

"That's the school you're going to attend, we'll introduce ourselves to the staff there." He pauses to let out an annoyed sigh, "what a waste of my Sunday." He nods towards the two boxes at corner of the room, "that's your 'luggage' over there." He then turns away and descends the stairs, he raises a hand to wave at him before going completely out of sight, "Ma, I'm going to be downstairs if you need me and you better don't." Then what was his point of offering in the first place?

 

The older man casts one final grim look at him. "I'm serious about staying out of trouble, one small problem and it's straight to juvie for you." Jokes aside, Akira feels a shiver ran up his spine, slightly disturbed by the man's ominous words and a distinct of some secret organization member. He gives out the reflex to nod a bit too vigorously. The Leblanc manager nods, satisfied and disappears under the floor.

 

Akira shuffles his feet nervously and quietly sneezes at his sleeve. Sniffling, he let his gaze sweeps the dusty ceiling, the dusty floor, the dusty everything, the dusty cleaning supplies. He watches dust motes floating in the very air he's currently breathing in, even the air is dusty. Guess he should start cleaning before it gets any worse or he dies by dust and mold. He looks around again and nods to himself, he switches his nice shirt to a worn black T-shirt that has seen better days and covers the bottom half of his face with a cloth, he grabs the supplies, grimacing to sticky and dusty texture and started cleaning.

  

**9th April, Saturday - Cloudy -**

_**Evening** _

 

"The place doesn’t look half bad, huh?"

 

Akira turns his head at the whistling older man from the ceiling where he's been glaring at the moldy patch he couldn't reach, he doesn't trust that ladder to hold him even if it does looked recently used.

 

Sakura-san looks around while nodding to himself, marveling at the state of the room. "Well, I'm going close up the shop and leave myself. Don't stay up too late and I won't be the one taking care of you while you're sick, you got that?" Akira curtly nods, "Good, night then." The older man says and he turns to leave.

 

Akira stands stiffly in the middle of the room, hands sticky from grime and sweat, he grimaces. Jingling keys and latches locking into place echo from the lower floor and he is finally left alone and locked inside the cafe. He glances at his phone's clock; it's late and he needs to be up early for tomorrow. He throws his phone on his bed and descends the stairs to wash his hands at the sink downstairs, he considers to take a quick shower but settles come back to the attic and decides to shower tomorrow. He slips into a comfortable clothes and tucks himself into the somewhat stiff bed.

 

And disappointing apparently, he scowls and turns to his side, staring at his phone. He winces at the throbbing pain that settles at his limbs and lower back, all that bending over to push things took a toll on his body. He glances at the rafters and then wanders to the general position of the chair at the end of the bed. The rafters are thick enough to hold his weight, he thinks, he could reach its height witht he chair, though he does doubts the chair to hold his weight.

 

His eyes gleam with a little excitement, a schedule and plans forming in his mind. A little workout here and there could improve his stamina, he remembers a store he saw selling some protein shakes on the way here and besides his stamina he could get a part-time job to get experience and get extra money while he's at it. It couldn't hurt to improve several things he previously and currently lacked, he would reason to Sojiro-san as a way to 'straighten himself' or 'distractions from the bad influence'. It could work, he imagines.

 

Akira fails to fight off a shudder and pulls his blanket up further to his chin. He turns his body to face the wall and close his eyes, he makes a frustrating noise when sleep doesn't come as easy as he hopes. He raises his hand and stare at it with what little light shines through the window, fascinated by the rashes from cleaning without gloves all day. He turns his body again, this time away from he wall, his eyes strays to his bag, its contents spill carelessly on the table including the same book he bought that night-

 

That night when the assault, the arrest, the trial, the whispers, the traitors, liars, his parents finally agreeing to one common thing, which just had to be his fucking probation-

 

His phone rings and he's not sure whether he should be relieved or annoyed by the small distraction, he reaches blindly behind him where he tossed his phone earlier and grasp at the device. He winces and blinks away white spots from the sudden bright intrusion from his phone. Akira frowns and raises a questioning eyebrow at the lack of notice. He swears he hears his phone rang, unless he's tired enough to imagine it. He rubs his eyes, he should probably go back trying-

 

A single red and black eye stared back at him.

 

Akira jumps in shock and accidentally drops his phone on his face. Cursing, he sits up, dropping his phone on the way onto his lap and rubs at the sore spot his nose. Scowling, he lays back down and brings up the phone again, this time with a firmer grip. The icon stares back at him and takes up his whole phone's screen. He taps the icon several times and tries to delete it like he previously did back at Shibuya Crossing, no matter how much he taps his phone the icon is still there and his phone isn't responding at all.

 

Begrudgingly, Akira turns off his phone and places it back down with some hopes it resolves itself by the time he needs it to navigate this stupidly huge city. Pulling the blanket back up at his chin, he closes his eyes already feeling himself getting drowsy by the second. If weird apps is going to cost him some precious sleep then he rather it didn't.

 

. . .

 

Akira grips the iron bars until his knuckles turn white, his snarl growing larger by the second he hears the long nosed man drawls about his life like some kind of game.

 

"You're truly a prisoner of fate."

 

Funny, he was thinking the same thing.

 

**10th April, Sunday - Cloudy -**

_**Daytime** _

 

"You will be immediately expelled if you cause any problems. Honestly, I hesitated on accepting someone like you, but there were some circumstances on our side." The principal of Shujin Academy closes his eyes. "You might have done a variety of things in hiding in your hometown, but you will behave yourself here. If you are thrown out from our school, there will be no place for you to go." The overweight man's eyes open and shots him a look, bordering on a glare. "Keep that in mind."

 

His curls his hands harshly until his nails painfully bites his skin. Sakura-san sends him a warning look. He scowls mentally and forces his hands to uncurl, his shoulders to drop and nods.

 

. . .

 

"They're treating you like some kind of a nuisance, a criminal is probably a better term." The older man pauses to study Akira's blank face, "I guess that's what you get to have a criminal record, turns out your past will follow wherever you go." Sojiro-san grunts, his hand lingers at his mouth, fingers grasping at empty air before he drops it to the side. "By the way, if you do get expelled, I won't hesitate to kick you out got it?"

 

Yeah, yeah, whatever. What he wants to say, but he nods politely instead.

 

The manager sniffs before turning to walk back where he left the car, "C'mon, let's go back."

 

. . .

 

"Besides, I've already been paid for it."

 

Typical, of course Sakura-san was bribed by his parents. How fucking typical.

 

_"-again, a subway has derailed at Shibuya Station, greatly affecting the timetable all across-"_

 

Sakura-san glances at the radio with a raised eyebrow, "Another accident?"

 

He wonders if these are truly accidents.

 

**11th April, Monday - Raining -**

_**Early Morning** _

 

"Damn it, screw that pervy teacher."

 

He shouldn't care but it's not everyday you find yourself cowering from the rain in the same place as, what he seems, a delinquent from your new school. He is curious, if not a bit concerned at this perverted teacher, he's certain he doesn't want to meet this gym teacher from what the vulgar boy's ranting-slash-growling. Said teen doesn't pay him any mind and continues to growl at the direction where the car disappeared around the corner.

 

"Huh?" The other boy finally turns towards him with a scowl perpetuated on his face and hands stuffed inside his pockets, "What do you want?" He takes a step forward menacingly. A petty attempt to intimidate him, Akira thinks. "You going to rat me out to Kamoshida?" He growls, and spreads his feet. A fighting stance, Hoo boy, that's not a good sign.

 

Akira presses his lips into a thin line, his feet inching back and away from the other teen for no other reason than staying out of any trouble from or related the blond boy. On the first day and he's already on the verge of fucking up his only one job which is keep his head down and stay out of trouble-that's technically two and he is required to has top grades but whatever and trouble have a tendency to be attracted to him like his hair attracted barber threats, and he really doesn't want to end up in jail thank you very much.

 

Akira stares back at the stranger with a blank face while trying to not show how uncomfortable it is bending his back and stays rooted to his feet. The vulgar boy's scowl deepens and his eyes narrows while his mouth opens-

 

"Slow as ever, Track Traitor!"

 

"No wonder every girl hates you!"

 

"Still a disappointment to dear old mommy I see?"

 

The blond turns his head sharply at the last comment from one of the three males in red jumpsuits running by and let out a brutish growl, "I'll make you a disappointment if you don't shut up!".

 

And there he goes, leaving him with a wet hair and wetter pants.

 

Akira blows air out from his nose and shakes his head from the excessive water. There goes his potential guide/enemy/bystander, he should've at least ask for help even if he wasn't expecting an answer. First impressions are important, right? It's what Mother told him when-

 

School, focus.

 

He glances at the time on his phone and looks up at the crying sky, then slightly flinches at the water hitting near his eye. It doesn’t look like the rain is going to stop any time soon and he was running out of time. He spots the trickle of students with matching uniforms passed by across the road, in other words his guide. He looks up and down the road, one foot half-raised to cross the road. He should get going before-

 

Searing white and sharp spikes of pain penetrates through his skull and he lurches forward on his his feet, bumping with a shoulder. The stranger grunts and Akira breathes out a half-hearted apology as he staggers to the nearest wall, half-aware of the rain pounding down on his sodden body. He raises his hand to rub at his temple then his eyes in an attempt to sooth the thrumming phantom pains still lingering, he then shakes his head from any remnants from the sudden mental onslaught. 

 

He pushes himself from the wall and frowns at the absent gaggle of students from earlier, he looks up while brushing his blazer from droplets of water, at least the rain stops. Akira stares at his phone, his thumb hovering over the on button, hesitant. He wonders if the weird app is related to his weird dreams, they both show up in the same time and they're both weird, that's a definite correlation. He turns it on and stares at the clock, he doesn't have much time to spare.

 

Dammit, he should've accepted the offer earlier, pervy teacher or not.

 

Fuck it.

 

He opens the navigation and follows the direction it gives.

 

. . .

 

 **"For defying the laws of the king, you are sentenced to die!"** A chuckle, **"be honored I'll be the one personally take your pathetic, worthless life. Weak scum like you shouldn't exist in this world,"** a sword is raised, its polished, sharp metal glints under flames of torches. **"Then die!"**

 

. . .

 

A silver, delicate butterfly flutters into his vision, a voice whispers into his ear.

 

. . .

 

_**"What's the matter. . .? Are you simply going to watch? Death awaits you if you do nothing. Or are you waiting such fate? Was your previous decision a mistake then?"** _

 

It wasn't, and it never will be.

 

_**"Very well. . . I have heeded your resolve. Vow to me. I am thou, thou art I. . .Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name, and release thy rage! Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself!"** _

 

The world tilts and he screams and he laughs. A cackle like any madman dying from a fiery death.

 

Yet, he never feels so alive.

 

. . .

 

Ichors of blood drips down from his face to the floor and consumed by hungry blue fires, eating away, scorching, freezing everything at the same time except for him.

 

**"Ravage them, Arsene!"**

 

. . .

 

What is going on?

 

 _ **"I will explain in a later time."**_ A voice rang out in his head. _**"Right now, I suggest we should escape, we art surrounded and unprepared. How could we be great thieves if captured? I shall promise next time we art here, we shall kill all of them to our heart's content!"**_

 

 ~~ _ **We/**_  ~~He is right,

 

And he can't wait for that day.

 

. . .

 

_You have returned to the real world, welcome back._

 

. . .

  

"Stay out of trouble, you hear?" A sigh, "Kids these days."

 

Akira bows politely in thanks at the officer before heading to the directed path with his head hang low and shoes clack loudly against the wet pavement, a wicked smirk on his face.

 

This black thing, one that he knows have been sitting- _leaching_  at his heart since Mother said  _you're not going anywhere besides cram school_ and Father looked him  _it's a waste of time, why should i bother?_   finally _blooms_ in his chest and wraps its black thorns around his heart alongside the chains that runs back to Arsene in a lovers' embrace, and it burst into flames, fueling the embers of  _contumacious_  he hides for so _long_ and now it stood by his side as an equal, a counterpart, a partner in this dance of shadows and demons he enters unknowingly.

 

No, not now. Not while irksome, pretentious, execrable chess pieces still hold power over society. They'll eliminate, snuff out the fire faster than he could fan it, ~~but if he lets it die he'll die too, game over, his save will be gone, he doesn't want that~~.

 

He thinks of how he laughs and burns himself with blue fires while killing all of those Shadows and hearing their last cries of pain with a wicked grin and blood running down his face. He thinks of Arsene and the mask he ~~he **he**~~ came from, an ever-lasting wicked grin like his own, how he brandish his claws and cleaves anyone in half to a fountain of black smoke and ichor. He thinks of how he plays- _pretends_ to be this hero he dreams and  _longs_ to be for as long as he could remember. This smug show-off, hubristic, chaotic, charming criminal, a gentleman thief.

 

Ah, he could do that, pretend. Wear a mask for every person he meets and lets them write on it with their grubby, inveterate hands and wears his own crafted mask when he's out there plucking chess pieces.

 

Yes, he would do that. Acting, pretending has always comes easy for him. He will be an actor, a performer.

 

A trickster, a Joker.

 

. . .

 

There's a black and white cat pacing back and forth near the vending machines besides the school gate, mewling at no one particular. It's too clean and well groomed to be a stray, its yellow collar is an obvious indication, lost then, or abandoned.

 

**11th April , Monday - Clear -**

_**Lunchtime** _

 

Kamoshida looks identical with his shadow counterpart sans the attire. He stands tall, lies and talks with an authoritative tone, assertive on the edge of full out forceful and pushy, confident, and walks as if he's the king of the castle. Fitting, but not a very good actor, he thinks. Arsene warns him of the power the king of the castle holds above the school and presses he needs to be careful and patience.

 

No worries, he assures him ~~him **him?**~~ ~~~~. He'll wait and watch like he was raised to, then hit where it hurts the hardest and the rotten chess piece will be plucked out of the world quite sooner than he thinks.

 

. . .

 

_"Is that him, the one with a criminal record?"_

_"I heard he hides a bunch of dangerous stuff in his bag."_

_"Don't look at him, he'll hurt you."_

_"You think he has a knife somewhere?"_

 

. . .

 

"Lies." She whispers.

 

**11th April, Monday - Clear -**

_**Evening** _

 

"On your first day of school, and you're already half a day late. Typical." Sakura-san grounds out, face tight and white knuckles on the counter. "Don't you even want out of this stupid probation?"

 

. . .

 

"Personas are in other words, a mask-an armor of the heart when confronting worldly matters." The ever present grin stretches even wider, "I have high expectations for you, Trickster."

 

**12th April, Tuesday - Raining -**

_**Early Morning** _

 

He arrives safely at school, a deep frown on his lips as he stands while students bustle and hurry inside the school before the bell rings and to cower from the rain. The sky stays grey and doesn't weep an amaranth colour, the school doesn't change into a menacing castle in a dizzying swirl like before and keeps its pristine, white look and the only guards visible are teachers. 

 

He glances down at his phone and stares at the innocent icon-the black and red eye sitting at the bottom of his homepage, he stuffs the device back and ascends the stairs. After School, he promises.

 

**12th April, Tuesday - Raining -**

_**Morning** _

 

"Hey, new kid."

 

Akira hastily straighten his back from slouching almost hitting his knee under the desk under the scrutinizing gaze of the current teacher, He puts an effort to keep his face blank and eyes focus, pushing the little fragments of dreams to the back of his mind.

 

"The Greek philosopher Plato, divided the human soul into three parts. A soul is composed of appetite, spirit and what else?" The teacher claps his hands behind his back and leans back, chin tilting up and gaze down. "Can you tell me, boy?"

 

His head buzzes and he remembers the old, musty book he read when he was six years old in that small study room back home while his parents yell at each other over martial issues two doors down, he remembers how his tears dropped on the page smearing that little word and 'Ignorance'. "Logic."

 

"Correct," The overweight man sniffs and drops his chin, "you knew that huh?" He lifts his gaze and turns away from him and then faces the whole class, "Plato's teacher, Socrates once said that evil is born from ignorance. People who've been babied, thought that evil is due to individuality, can only become society's scum."

 

Evil is born from ignorance.

 

**12th April, Tuesday - Cloudy -**

_**After School** _

 

_Begin navigation. . ._

 

. . .

 

**"Please, wait! It's no good to be shootin' that thing so recklessly, ho."**

 

Akira spares a glance at Arsene, the gun tilts low but stays true and steady at the target. He lifts his finger to hover over the trigger, ready to shot at a drop of a hat. _He_  shifts his weight to one leg, his aim never wavered a single bit, a smirk plays on his lips, blue flames dance around him like a halo. "And how does that benefit me I wonder?"

 

**"I'll give you anything, ho. Just let me live!"**

 

Arsene releases a low chuckle, he extends his black wings and looms behind him. _Hi_ _s_ smirk widens to a full blown grin, it hurts his face and he imagines his face ripping in half. "Lend me your power."

 

. . .

 

The dungeons doesn't change much from his last visit, there's chains and cages hanging form the ceiling wherever he goes and every wall is still in its crumbling and dirty state and the floor isn't too far different, tortured screams and rushing water drowns any sounds from silent creatures like him. It's still damp, dark and cold like any other castle dungeons, save for the extra guards patrolling the halls.

 

Akira slinks through to lower dungeons, ripples form under his feet with every step, as if he's walking above a sea of blood. Clanks from armors resonate from wall to wall, giving the feeling of being cornered, but he knows better. He slips from shadow to shadow, checking every corner for Shadows, talk about irony. He slips pass a guard and enters room leading to another door with a banner hanging above it, he spares a glance at the sign before entering a long hallway where the screams and cries of mercy are the loudest, a path of aubergine torches lights with red banners bearing Kamoshida's face hanging below them supply little to no light. He rises from his crouch when he's finally sure the hallway is devoid from any guards and walks along the damp stone wall, keeping a distant from the metal doors and wrought iron fence.

 

He crouches down in front of the gates and peers over to observe the group of students currently being tortured with various ways, he presses his lips together into a thin light, his face tight with disgust.

 

The piece of shit views students as slaves, that could explain the bruises some students he saw sported, then there's a big probability it happens in real life too, he'll need to ask around tomorrow for testimonies if wants to out Kamoshida, he doesn't recognize any of their faces though. He pulls out his phone and taps the camera icon, he lets out a small frustrated noise when his phone doesn't responds. He pockets his phone and squints through the bars, searching and committing any distinct features from the volleyball members to his mind. He remembers he saw that boy at the corner of the room is from the same class-

 

He blinks and reconsiders his plans as he listens to the mad babbles and pleas to  _don't drag me into your mess-this is fine-we won't die if we stay obedient_   he previously ignored. He stands from his crouch and walks back, careless whether or not the guards will notice him, to where he enters with a gloved hand grips his chin, the other at the elbow and his head hangs low, lips pulled tight.

 

Evil is born from Ignorance.

 

Kamoshida must be aware the students wouldn't dare to go against him, otherwise the cognition wouldn't say things like this at all. He stops in front of the stairs and scowls, The bastard knows he has a tight leash on them like loyal dogs and he's flaunting it here. Asking around would be counter-productive but he still needs to confirm whether or not Kamoshida is abusing them or not, he can't exactly eavesdrop without getting caught immediately because of his shitty record, he wonders if there's a school news reporter willing to spill a few secrets, unlikely but he could strike a deal. He exits the room and lays a hand on the handle of the second door to the main dungeons, ears straining for any signs of guards beyond. He needs to get out of here before he could do that.

 

Akira slips out and closes the door as quietly as possible-

 

**"-guard down, in the dungeons-"**

 

Yelling and loud, brisk footsteps and clanking of unknown numbers rapidly approaching his location- 

 

**"-intruders in the dungeons, find them and bring their body dead or alive!"**

 

Fucking hell.

 

He bolts.

 

. . .

 

He leans against the wall, legs jelly and every limb weak, shaking from invisible exertion. Sweat drips down his face in small rivulets, mouth open in quiet, desperate small gasps for air, raucous croaks bounce around the dark room while rapid footsteps and yelling resonates behind the closed door, the small cut on his cheek already began to scab sometime ago. The skin around his eyes, where his mask rest, aches in sharp pinpricks, a mild headache pounds away at his head. He feels miserable, weak and tired most of all.

 

Akira vaguely remembers being in a similar situation, except he's crying and ten years old and cowering at the corner of the dining room with plates and spilled dinner on the floor while his parents argue in front of him, blaming him every now and then. He could almost smell the nauseating sharp tang of curry mixed with his own salty tears and feel the sting on his cheek where Mother had slapped him. He retreated to the study room after they started to yell at each other and then found that book.

 

Evil is born from ignorance.

 

He wonders how his life would play if he reacts to their constant arguments differently rather than hiding from it. 

 

Akira opens his eyes, he doesn't remember closing them, and stares at the grimy stone walls through the dim lighting, he counts every piece of stone along with the pair of footsteps racing down the hall outside. The room shifts and swirls and melts for a second to a classroom with a girl with a black ponytail sweeping the floor before it disappears without any trace. His head buzzes, a faint piano playing an unfamiliar yet familiar against white noise.

 

_**"Thou art I, I art thou. We art wild card, we has't many advances in battle, but we tire easily. Methinks thee should beest careful."** _

 

_**"Persona users are invulnerable to distortions."** _

 

_**"We, however, art not."** _

 

**13th April, Wednesday - Cloudy -**

_**After School** _

 

Akira pops open the can and drinks about half of it's contents in one go, he sighs and leans back on his seat, the can held lightly between his thighs. He scowls lightly and furrows his brows together. Talking to that news reporter for a deal with was a total waste of his time, the girl doesn't know anything useful besides the general information you get from any new reporter, she never attempts to cover any rumors with an article, the school newspaper is most likely to be supervised under a higher up, a leash, he guess the principal is involved if the articles got out of school. She did provided him with past notable rumors, but weren't fully detailed as she never made notes or investigated them herself.

 

The eavesdrops proves to bear more fruit, even if he did had to do some labor in the form of helping Kawakami-san carrying books all over the school to avoid suspicion. Kawakami-san really likes to exploit any help she gets once she passes the initial polite  _oh, you don't have to, Kurusu-san._

 

"Hey," Akira casts one grey eye at the blonde approaching his way, he immediately recognizes her as the girl sitting in front of him. She is the only foreign here, he honestly can't forgets a face like that, "can I talk to you?"

 

. . .

 

Carefully, Akira places the now empty can balanced precariously on top of a bin away and slips away unnoticed by the two blonds arguing  with each other, it painfully reminds him back home with his parents. He vows to avoid them if he sees the two of them together to save himself from any unwanted memories. Once he's sure he is a safe distant away, he takes a quick glance at the clock and jogs back to class. The rally will be over in a few minutes and he can't risk getting caught by a teacher, specifically Kamoshida.

 

He pays little mind to the cat he swears he's seen before passing by and continues towards where he came from.

 

. . .

 

"Proving he does physically abuses us. . .is meaningless."

 

Akira fiddles with the MetaNav, scrolling through its long history of Palaces that have been long gone by now while keeping an ear on the conversation between the two blonds and Mishima. He leans back on the wall and turns his head at the trio in the guise of glancing at the clock. Bless those cheesy spy novels.

 

"The school, their parents, the principal. Everybody knows about it, they just don't care."

 

He leaves when he sees Kamoshida comes near the trio, passing them by while he's at it. He returns the stink eye Kamoshida gives him with a blank one eyed stare he knows creeps the shit out of his classmates back in elementary.

 

**13th April, Wednesday - Cloudy -**

_**After School** _

 

On the way to grab a pamphlet to see what part-time job is available, he sees the two blonds from earlier chasing each other along underground station. The male teen trips and falls over, then the other blonde backtracks and helps the fallen immediately with soft eyes and undecipherable frown while he watches from afar.  ~~ _Like he always do._~~

 

He catches the boy's gaze briefly and turns away, the pamphlet crumples under his white knuckled grip. For some reason, he feels betrayed. 

 

Fire crackles and he hears the dark woods calling, _**"Aww~, how adorable. Ho, the boss is envious."**_

 

Akira smothers him ~~ **him**~~ down.

 

**14th April, Thursday - Cloudy -**

_**After School**_

 

Despite the bruises on her face, the tight eyes hiding pain away, she smiles brightly like the sun. "I'm glad they don't bother you." She carefully shifts, to put weight off from her injured leg, "By the way, Mishima-kun told me you gave Kamoshida-san quite a frightening look. That was brave of you."

 

_. . ._

 

_Begin navigation_

 

. . . 

 

**"Intruders!"**

 

Akira snaps his head up from the map on the table, black pen hovering over the open notebook with a map of the castle he hastily scribbled. He scans around room for guards, his other free hand resting on his firearm. Did they notice the missing guards, he's sure he was careful who he eliminates and who he leaves. There's cotton in his ears and his head feels like it's underwater, it's cold, he thinks, numbly.

 

_**"Me think you don't, me irritated. Should just drown you when you try ride me."** _

 

He gasps, out of breath for some reason. He shakes his head, crouches and gathers up his notebook along with any of his traces. Face taut, he creeps to the door and opens it slightly, recoiling at the sight of several guards with red auras around them running pass.

 

**"Hurry! the intruders were spotted on the first floor!"**

 

**"The king is there, we must protect the king!"**

 

He frowns and locks the door, a thoughtful look on his face. He walks back to the table and bends over to finish up his copy of the map, adding markings on what he assumes an important room while he's at it.

 

He  _was_ at the first floor hours ago, it's very unlikely the guards are looking for him, otherwise they would be increasing patrols and send out search parties. Then that leaves the other theory, there's a third party involved and he's not sure if he likes to meet them, from the sound of it they sounds like a ragtag bunch with zero clue to what's happening and just happens to be dragged into this shit-fest.

 

Arsene rumbles, soft piano plays a slow jazz and distorted humming. He tells him ~~him _him_~~  to avoid the other party, they might be hostile or an obstacle. Be wary, he ** ~~ _he_~~**  warns.

 

Akira agrees. He glances at the time on his phone, it's getting late and trains won't run any later. He gathers his stuff, returns everything back to the way it was before and heads for the exit.

 

He'll deal with them when he crosses that bridge.

 

**14th April, Thursday - Clear -**

_**Evening** _

 

_You have returned to the real world, welcome back._

 

. . .

 

Akira rubs his eyes and tiredly looks around the alleyway lined with small, admittedly shady businesses. He's gotten himself lost somehow, and doesn't realizes anything until it's too late. He stares at his hand and watch it trembles slightly, he clenches his hand and shoves it inside his pocket. He's gotten better at switching between Personas, he thinks. He lasted longer than before and he only took two breaks in the span of four hours.

 

He glances at his phone and then the green neon sign hanging above a store with military gear in the display window, a collectors store, perhaps? It's the only one that looks open and Akira doesn't thinks he has the energy to try the other or pretend for more than one person. He opens the door with a ring and is immediately meet with various types of military gear like helmets, camo outfits, ammunition and very real-looking guns displaying around the shop. Three pairs of eyes glances at his direction, two belonged to what he's sure members of some yakuza group.

 

He closes the door without a word and skedaddles away.

 

. . .

 

"You're late, what were you doing after school?" Sakura-san shots him with a withering look, mouth upturned to a scowl. He crosses his arms, "did you hang out with some friends i don't know about?" 

 

He took the wrong train, he tells him, which hold some truth anyway.

 

Sakura-san let out an exaggerated sigh, "typical." He flashes at his watch and rubs his temples with one hand, a stressed look on his face. "I'm leaving, lock up as usual."

 

**15th April, Friday - Cloudy -**

_**Morning** _

 

Akira watches _ ~~likeyoualwaysdo~~_ ~~~~the paramedics carry the semi-unconscious girl away with the foreign student in tow, their hands clasp together as if her life depends on it. Shiho meets his stare with half-lidded eyes, her other free hand shakily raised at him. The other girl follows the weak limb and snaps her head up to comb the crowd.

 

Akira watches ~~ _itstheonlythingyouregoodat_~~ the blond delinquent grits his teeth, hands clenched tightly besides him and rushes off inside the school.

 

He turns away, ignoring a pair of eyes on his back.

 

**15th April, Friday - Cloudy -**

_**After School** _

 

_Begin Navigation. . ._

 

. . .

 

Akira's eyes rakes at the clutter he collected over past few days, fidgeting a piece of tin clasp in hand, a thoughtful look on his face. He bends the clasp until it's an L shaped rod with a small loop on its other short end, creating one part of a lockpick.

 

Joker grins at the small, innocent piece of metal.

 

. . .

 

He ~~ _akiranot **joker**_~~ chokes out a sob, teeth biting into tongue from screaming, because it hurts, _ithurts, **ithurts**_ -

 

Here he is again, hiding- _cowering_ in a room while his body trembles and blood paints the dark, rich wood a bolder colour.

 

Akira hisses as he strips his coat, exposing his bleeding arm to the air, blood sluggishly ooze down from a deep cut on his upper arm close to his shoulder with glowing yellow veins around it, the arm itself is limp against his side. He sighs and leans back against the wall, his legs splayed in front of him. Whispers and mocking laughter, echoing in a jar fills his head

 

_**"On the bright side, you're not dead, yet. You're lucky they were so kind to leave you with nothing but a scratch, but you killed them return. How ungrateful."** _

 

He's too tired to heal himself or stand up and leave the Palace like Arsene hassles him to. He sits there, bleeding all over the place and making a mess. He thinks, he would have to heal himself without using a Persona and straining himself further in the process. He'll need to assemble some sort of a med-kit if he wants to survive, preferably something light and compact to carry anywhere.

 

He casts a weak healing spell on the wound after gathering what little energy he could spare, the wound stops bleeding but the golden glow hasn't faded and he feels like there's something weighing him done. He stands and fights the strong urge to just lie down and sleep. He gathers his coat and carefully slips the coat on with one arm in and lets the wounded one hide inside the coat tucked and cradled against his chest, he can't move his injured limb without experiencing excruciating pain up his arm.

 

Akira slips out of the room after making sure there are no guards nearby and trots silently along the hallway to the room, he remembers, has an opened window. He puts half of his mind to trigger the Third Eye while the other half replays the battle and the brief conversation with Archangel before it.

 

The Shadow was surprised to see him, claimed to be expecting someone else-a _they, those people,_ plural-

 

He stifles a startled gasp and wedges himself against the chair in time for a group of Shadows passes by. Metal boots thudded on lavish carpet, they didn't make any disturbance on the ground like he does, they belonged here, he distantly thinks.

 

Screams rings throughout the castle, they're too loud, too near to be from dungeons and the thudding is back and he ~~ ** _he_** _hecanthavetheaudiencelaughathispitifulstatehesthe **joker**_~~  needs to get out, _get out_ , before they find _~~him-~~_

 

He runs.

 

. . .

 

Akira stares at mirror in front of him, examining the cut on his shoulder; it stops glowing a while ago. He's glad he was able to find some privacy in a bathroom of a small family restaurant nearby, where he could lock himself in, it'll bring too much attention if anyone saw this amount of blood. He stares mournfully at his jacket, its left sleeve heavily stained with dried blood, he'll need to buy a soda to save his jacket.

 

He turns the tap and puts his oddly numb arm under the arm and watch ~~ _watchjustwatchlookatyourmistake_~~  the clear water turns pink, scrubbing the flakes of. He pulls out a handkerchief he keeps inside his pocket, his name embroidered on the corner, his only memory from Grandma _ ~~shesdeadthatcutneedstobecovered **shewillbedisappointed** butyoudontcaredoyou~~_. He wraps the wound with it, he couldn't do anything about the smell though.

 

He buys the packed bento lunches the restaurant sells, for tomorrow, he reasons. He thanks the owner and leaves, smelling like death.

 

. . .

 

"My," She leans forward, propping her chin up, her eyes studies his left arm where-he knows there is a patch of a darker colour and smells like death. "Looks like we're both smell like death except I ride the river and I don't smell like coke." She slaps a bill on the table and stands from her seat, "thanks for the coffee, Sojiro-san." The woman walks to the door and stops right besides Akira, she turns to Sakura-san. "Oh, that's right, I have some heavy stuff that needs lifting back at the clinic-" she throws a thumb somewhere behind her- "do you mind if I borrow your charge for a bit?"

 

Sakura-san scoffs, "and how do you know that? For all you know, he could be a customer."

 

"Fujimoto-san is quite the gossiper you know? C'mon, I promise to give him back in one piece and I won't dissect him, yet anyway." Akira bristles at the last comment, doesn't he have a say in this?

 

"Fine." The manager consents, he tilts his head at Akira, "go on kid." Then turns back at the woman. "Don't be long, the kid has a curfew."

 

"Noted." She turns to Akira, lightly poking where the cut is. Akira stifles a pained grunt and shots her warning look. She returns it with lecturing one, "come with me and i'll keep quite of that not so little cut of yours." She murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear. 

 

Akira presses his lips, he spares an eye at the woman and beckons her to go first as he opens the door with white knuckled grip.

 

She chuckles lightly, "My, you're quite a gentleman-" She smirks and lowers her voice- "my future guinea pig."

 

Sakura-san snorts, "I doubt it."

 

Akira feels offended at both.

 

. . .

 

"Well, you're smart enough to clean it," Takemi-san leans back her chair, examining her work. "You're lucky it wasn't as deep as I suspected, a quarter of an inch and eight stitches is pretty impressive. That's some pain tolerance, kid, most grown men would bawl their eyes out." She reaches over to the table to grab a clipboard and scrawls on it, "the anesthetic should wear of by now, I'll get you a prescription for antibiotics with painkillers if you want?"

 

Akira hums and the scratches of pen over paper continues. He morbidly marvels at his cut now only being held together by thin lines of stitches below the bandage the doctor neatly wrapped. His arm still feels numb with pins and needles now and then, his fingers jitters at random times.

 

"-the painkillers would make you drowsy a bit, so be careful with that." She gives him a piece of paper and two unbranded blister packs. "There's detailed instructions there, make sure you follow it."

 

He nods and shrugs his jacket on as best as he could with one arm numb and jittery, then pockets the given objects.

 

"I expect you to return here tomorrow, on my shift, to change those bandage." She crosses her legs and arms, a thoughtful frown on her dark lips. "We'll worry about your payment, if you're still alive by then." She adds with a smirk.

 

Well, isn't that morbid as fuck.

 

. . .

 

It's in the middle of the night and he feels like he could sleep for a million years but too much aware of everything around him when he remembers the bento box he left back at the clinic.

 

There goes lunch, unless he has some spare money laying around somewhere.

 

**16th April, Saturday - Cloudy -**

_**Afternoon** _

 

The teacher drones and it sounds far away like he's underwater, floating, the world is tilting constantly, images blur together to a colorful world of smudges like when he's riding a bicycle with Grandma across the field. Wasn't he drowning a second ago-

 

"Kurusu, pay attention!"

 

Akira ~~ _Joker **they**_~~ sna ** _ ~~p~~_** s his _ ~~his~~_ ~~ ** _their_**~~ head up and dodges the incoming projectile in time for it pass harmlessly and lands somewhere at the corner of the class. His head feels oddly clear and stuffed with cotton at the same time.

 

"Whoa, did you see that?"

 

"That was an epic dodge!"

 

"Do you think he's a ninja or something?"

 

Akira blinks and the clarity disappears, leaving him with the lethargic feeling he had since taking that painkiller. He ducks his head to hide a yawn, eyes fighting to keep open. It'll be nice to sleep just a for a few minuets-

 

"Pay attention!"

 

His head painfully snaps up when the chalkboard eraser suddenly meets his forehead, a cloud of fine, white dust explodes and covers the entirety of his hair and glasses. He leans to the side to cough out chalk dust he accidentally breathe in, he hears the the whole class snicker around him, whispering, mocking, they echo inside a jar-

 

 ** _"You were able to dodge that, but you didn't. Weren't w̸̟͉̞̮͖̐̑̍̂̒̍͝ͅȩ̸̻̦̠͍̮̥͕̗̣̯̼͙͉̒̾͆̌̋̐͒̓̎̚͝ kind enough to warn you earlier?"_**  

 

Ushimaru-san snaps a ruler to the table, silencing the class. "Not so cocky now, huh? That's what you get for not paying attention to what adults say." He clears his throat and turns to the board, "Now where were we. . ."

 

Akira raises his hand to gingerly rub his forehead, he shots the back of Ushimaru-san's head with a quick glare before he pats his hair from chalk dust and wipes his glasses. The drowsiness from before is gone somehow, he doesn't know if he should be thankful to Ushismaru-san. He sighs and turns his eyes to the board with his hand ready to jot down any facts he deems important.

 

The girl in front of him is texting to someone and he decides to stay out of her business or whatever trouble she's putting herself and her buddy in. Once is enough.

 

**16th April, Saturday - Clear -**

_**After School** _

 

He could finally move his left arm after dropping his eraser and spilling his drink all day, it still jitters and touching anything feels far away.

 

He weaves through the throng of students, carefully avoiding any shoulders touching his wound. He does, however, bumped with the girl sitting in front of him lightly, the small impact jolts his wound and he grunts in agony at the same time a cat? yowls.

 

The girl gasps and clasps her hand together, "Oh, I'm s-" she stops herself, eyes glued to his left arm. The blonde opens her mouth-

 

He mutters an apology and pushes pass her before she could stop him, blending with the crowd effortlessly.

 

His left arm is aching and feels wet.

 

. . .

 

"I trusted you to be careful with your stitches and you just have to do the opposite." Takemi-san clicks her tongue in a disapproving tone, "Was my instructions not clear enough?" She sighs and retrieves a spare bandage from her desk, "Take of your jacket, I'll redo your stitches and add another prescription seeing you're quite reckless." A huff, "and you know what? You don't have to pay, free of charge." There's an 'if' in that tone. "If,-" See?- "you will come back again next month to _discuss,_ Okay?"  

 

He nods.

 

**17th April, Sunday - Clear -**

_**Daytime** _

 

The train is twice as crowded than any other day of the week.

 

Akira cradles his left arm closely to his bag, marveling at the small aches he's feeling. The salve Takemi-san gave him works wonders, he barely feels any pain besides the usual ache of your skin being pulled. He flinches slightly every time someone accidentally or purposely touching him, scowling lightly a second after. He doesn't deny he's 'pretty' or quite androgynous looking, he knows he got that from both of his parents, but it sure is annoying and bully target inducing.

 

He sighs and-braces his hand on the window besides him as the train suddenly jolts and the lights flicker for a moment.

 

He breathes out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his heart pounding against his chest. The other passengers around him mutters worryingly, a mother confronts her panicking child, some teens his age trembles in each others arms, some scoffs and grumbles about the small turbulence. He studies his own face from the reflection on the window, pale but already rapidly returning to it's normal color.

 

He bends down as best as he could in a crowded place to pick up his dropped bag, securing it tightly against his chest. He leans his head tiredly against the window, absentmindedly follows the yellow lights blurring together to a semi-solid line. The yellow colour reminds him the eerie amber eyes Shadows seems to posses, or the collar of the stray cat he saw on his first day.

 

He wonders if it found his owners yet.

 

. . .

 

Untouchable is closer to the station than he originally thought, way closer. Closer as in only a few blocks down from the station close.

 

Stupid Tokyo and its stupid unnecessary complicated roads and lack of signs.

 

"Heh," Iwai-san huffs, his tongue shifts the lollipop around his mouth, "you're an interesting kid." His lips quirks upwards, "yeah, I'll buy some of your stuff. Some of these could be useful in makin' new models. Come back anytime with more of these stuff, I'll lighten your burden for you." He gives Akira a look, one he couldn't decipher but decides it brings trouble, the good kind. "And maybe you could help me out, if you got guts."

 

He will, Akira tells him and heaves the empty bag and turns to leave-

 

The door jingles, and that blond teen from his school enters the shop. He stops short in front of him, eyes drifting to the empty duffle bag. He raises his eyebrows, mouth opening-

 

Akira bows slightly to the older man in thanks who nodded back, he mutters a small excuse as he brushes pass the other teen hurriedly. He shots a glance at the other teen's back before exiting the shop and briefly meets an intense gaze of slitted blue eyes staring back at him. He closes the door with a soft jingle and jogs to the station.

 

He still needs to buy those locks, he reminds himself and pushes the encounter to the back of his mind.

 

**17th April, Sunday - Clear -**

_**Evening** _

 

The desk tucked at the corner of the room is clean, clear of any junk or debris from earlier in the evening, but it's once again cluttered with various thin rods of metal varying in size and other simple metal working tools like pliers and such. A sleek black phone propped up by several thick textbooks lies on one corner of the mess, showing a video of a man unlocking a lock with flimsy looking hairpins while the other corner stands a makeshift lamp as the only source of light of the room besides the small, faint beams of moonlight shining through dirty windows. 

 

Akira stares at the broken lockpick in his red, irritated hand, then at the innocent, stubborn lock sat limply on the other.

 

Damn it, this is harder than it looks.

 

**18th April, Monday - Clear -**

_**After School** _

 

There's a library at the school.

 

There's a _fucking_ library at the _fancy-ass_ _school._

 

Akira quite literally skips through the halls to the library and was not disappointed by the small size, because who fucking cares, he has a haven here. He beams at the quite impressive collection of fictional books, some he hasn't read yet, his mind already working a schedule to read this and that. He wonders if there's a section for-

 

_"Isn't that the new kid with the criminal record?"_

 

He scowls, his hand grips the book he halfway pulls out tightly. His stupid criminal record just has to ruin his only safe place in this stupid, pompous school.

_"What's he doing here?"_

 

 _"-shouldn't he be hanging out with his yakuza friends or something-_ _"_

 

_"-what if he's here to search a way to murder the whole school simultaneously-"_

 

_"No way!"_

 

"Please, quiet down." Commands a brown haired girl with a voice that holds authority and the other occupants of the room lowers their voice, "this is a library, behave yourself." She huffs and mutters something under her breath before returning to read whatever book in her hand.

 

The library is still infested by whispers of fact-less rumors, but toned down to a bearable level, he could easily pretend them as typical background sound of shuffling papers and scratching pens.

 

He relaxes his grip and pulls the book fully out from its place on shelf and walks towards the counter near the entrance, he makes sure his mutters of thanks reached the ears of the girl from earlier.

 

The girl doesn't give any indication she heard him except the small pause as she flips a page over and continues not a moment later.

 

Akira places his student ID on top of the book on the counter, _'The Great Thief Arsène'_ proudly written on red and gold cover.

 

The library attendant tilts her head and smiles politely, it doesn't reach her eyes. "Would you like to borrow that book?"

 

. . .

 

Akira lightly strokes the fragile petal of a brightly coloured flower he doesn't recognize, a light smile on his lips. Scents of various flowers weave and teases his nose through the air like strips of silk lightly hang from the ceiling, it reminds him of the vast flower fields he likes to run through as a kid.

 

"That's the last of the customers," Hanasaki-san declares brightly, clapping her hands together with a wide smile on her. "Thank you for you help, Kurusu-kun."

 

He likes her, he decides. She's a bit too cheery for his liking and her face is thick with polite facades and naivety, her hands are covered with rough callouses from caring people and plants alike and fragile as porcelain.

 

"I hoped you have learned quite a bit for your next visit," she says, "I know there's a book about flower language somewhere in Shinjuku, I suggest you read that. Some customers wants their bouquets hold a meaning, be sure to be ready for that." She then hands him a white envelope, "Here's your reward."

 

**18th April, Monday - Clear -**

_**Evening** _

 

Akira finishes changing his bandages like Takemi-san showed him before, he clears up the remaining supplies and packs them back to the first-aid kit he snatched from the bathroom. He shoves the kit under his bed and collapses on his side, eyes staring vacantly at the clutter besides the metal shelf. 

 

He should clean the rest of his room.

 

**19th April, Tuesday - Clear -**

_**After School** _

 

The book in front of him blurs, as his chin feels warm and the distinct sharp of coffee with hints of nutty-like, walnuts, his mind supplies.

 

Akira takes off his fogged glasses and glances down at the table where a cup of coffee sits perfectly between his propped up arms, he looks up at the older man with an eyebrow raised.

 

Sakura-san huffs, "what are you looking at me like that? Just accept it." He sighs and looks away while grumbling, "You've been sitting there for a while, starin' at that book. I figured you need the boost."

 

Akira murmurs a thanks and takes a small sip. It's bitter with a faint taste of walnuts as an aftertaste, but crisp, smoky lingers in his tongue. It reminds him of Grandma and her little jar of walnuts she likes to eat with tea.

 

He blinks at the creamy liquid sitting inside the little cup on his hands, steam float upwards, it warms his face. It's delicious, he says.

 

Sakura-san smirks, "you know, I could teach you how to make one." He shrugs one shoulder carelessly, "and maybe you'll help around when you're free, reforming yourself or whatever."

 

**20th April, Tuesday - Cloudy -**

_**After School** _

 

Light from torches reflects endlessly against the piles and piles of gold and other jewelries, forever bathing the room with white-yellowish colour. Long veils of red velvet silk drape over the walls and swathe any furniture, hiding them from view. An open porch with wrought iron gate blocking any way in or out, shows the oversized moon against the Metaverse's abnormal sky.

 

Akira pants, slightly out of breath, and gapes at the massive floating ball of everything existed in the world, changing shape at every second, every blink, every everytime, never giving enough time to distinguish or recognize any object. His fingers still aching and irritated from touching it briefly, it burns under living touch and solids from dead ones.

 

The ever-present piano now plays a climbing symphony, drowning the constant white noise.

 

Arsene cackles and goes to a long monologue of placing fear and wariness, of making a show presenting ~~_him_~~  as the hero against the tyranny of the Palace owner. Arsene grins, show him fear, show him **~~_we_~~** ~~~~know where to hit the hardest, what he treasures the most, threaten him, call him out.

 

And what better way than a calling card.

 

Akira ~~ _Joker_~~  grins.

 

**21st April, Wednesday - Cloudy -**

_**Evening** _

 

Newspapers and magazines with missing or cut out pages covers the floor around his kneeling form in a haphazardly fashion, a pair pf scissors and a bottle of glue sit to the side, while a neat pile of red cards lay  adjacent from his hip. 

 

Akira wipes his hand from any residue glue and bits of paper, a satisfying smirk on his lips, 

 

This should do it.

 

**22nd April, Thursday - Clear -**

_**Early Morning** _

 

_Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the sinner of lust. We are aware of thy truest self, you placed thy twisted desires on students who doth not fight back. We has't hath decided to steal thy lust and desires and maketh thee confess thy sins. This wilt be done tomorrow, prepare thyself._

 

_From, the Phantom Thief of Hearts._

 

. . .

 

Akira watch ~~ _hewillactthistimenotanymorenotanymore_~~  Kamoshida pulls a hissy fit over the heaps of calling cards plastered on the board from a secluded corner outside the growing crowd, _~~he~~_ smirks.

 

Showtime.

 

**22nd April, Thursday - Clear -**

_**After School** _

 

Kamoshida stares at the smoking muzzle of Govarnance, body slouched in defeat, eyes wide as dinner plates and beads of sweat roll down his face in rivulets. His mouth opening and closing in a silent prayers of mercy. A bullet hole marks the floor behind him, a breath away from where the shadow of his head is.

 

"I wonder," He breathes out, a thin layer of sweat coat his forehead, showing his exhaustion, nonetheless he show a threat to the fallen king. "Where did all of that bravado go?" He tilts his head to the main door behind him, his feet propped up on the jeweled crown. "Run if you want, the exit's right behind me." His mask burns and Arsene materializes behind him in a flourish of azure flames, wings spread wide and glistening with dark matter. A promise of death. "Or-" He takes a step forward and Kamoshida scrambles backwards- "stay and atone your sins."

 

 **"Why-"** Kamoshida chokes out as the gun presses his forehead lightly, body now trembling in fear.

 

Joker smirks, his stance lax with one hand on his hip. "Because killing you here would be mercy, I'm not as rotten as you." he says, and taps the trigger lightly at his next words, smirk widening as the fallen king winces at every tap. "I want you to see you wither in prison, suffer like those people you abuse." He chuckles, blue fire burns his face. "Rotten chess pieces like you makes me want to puke,"

 

Kamoshida growls, fists adorably clenched in anger.  **"I'm the KING-"**

 

He shoves the gun harder and the Shadow falters, all previous bravado gone in an instant. "Pfft, are you kidding me?" He laughs and wipes a fake tear with his free hand, "you're nothing but a fucking pawn. Didn't you say those hyenas always cornering you with their expectations." He scoffs and his finger plays with the trigger, "sounds like exploitation to me, how tragic."

 

 **"Just-just please,"**  Kamoshida begs, eyes wide and centered at the muzzle. **"Please, let me live! I'll-I'll do anything!"**

 

"Admit what you've done, atone your sins." Joker props the gun on his shoulder and Arsene looms behind him and lets out a rumble of laughter. "Or we'll do it the hard way. Choose; but please, _**Take Your Time.**_ " They echo.

 

Kamoshida cuts of any more petty begging, eyes downwards and tears stream down his cheeks.  **"Y-Yes, I will atone my sins."** The fallen king chokes out after a moment and kneels,  **"I've lost. You're through when you lose."**

 

Akira frowns and turns to leave with the Treasure in tow, the crown weighs little but he feels the pride and glory swirling inside it. Arsene lingers behind before chuckling lightly and disappearing in a burst of flames.

 

**"People will leave you if you lose."**

 

**2nd May, Monday - Clear-**

_**Morning** _

 

He wants to do it again, He ~~ _he_~~  thinks and decides ~~_he_~~ likes to watch corrupted pieces on their knees and cry away their sins.

 

 _He_ will do it again, and show those rotten chess pieces what fair play is.

 

. . .

 

Akira describes himself as a blank slate, he lets people write over him, he behaves how they hope, he answers what he assumes what they want to hear, he does any request they ask, he helps them when in need, he stands by their side to support. He is a friend to all, but at the same time a friend to none and once the curtain falls, the performance comes to an end, he laughs at their foolishness, he laughs at their naivety, he laughs at how easy it is to fool them with a poorly made mask. He is, he thinks, an actor, a trickster,

 

A Joker.

 

. . .

 

**He never feels so alive.**

**Author's Note:**

> YA BOI, AKIRA IS GOING SOLO!
> 
> After reading SharkbaitSekki's 'Behind the Masks' and our conversation, I was motivated to do it this. The idea popped up while I was reading the Anthology Comic(the first chapter, specifically.), it strikes me the most on how bitter Akira is towards adults in general.
> 
> You guys don't know how much research and development this fic took, hint; buttloads. My concept notes is like twenty pages long and it took up 10+ tabs on my browsers to cross-ref it. And I'm sure there's a plot hole or an error glaring at me somewhere. Please let me know any mistakes I've made and your thoughts, a review is always appreciated.
> 
> My Tumblr is http://iwritetoscream.tumblr.com is you want to go say hi or deal with my bullshit.


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